


Amicitia (or: Six times Alec Lightwood had more friends than he thought he did)

by SquaresAreNotCircles



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 15:39:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15367812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SquaresAreNotCircles/pseuds/SquaresAreNotCircles
Summary: "Because we're friends," she says with a shrug and a smile.Alec experiences a rare moment where his mind blanks completely. He stares at her like he's never seen her before.Clary's bright smile loses some wattage after ten full seconds tick by. "Aren't we?""Yes, of course we are," he replies, without even needing to think about it.





	Amicitia (or: Six times Alec Lightwood had more friends than he thought he did)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic exists because:
> 
> A) Canon Alec is never shown to have any real friends outside of his siblings (and Magnus, obvs), which is a tragedy that needed to be fixed. I'd argue Lydia came closest, but then she randomly disappeared and was never seen or heard from again, so I'd also argue that's no good.
> 
> B) I'm a stubborn idiot. This was written in its entirety in the notes app on my phone (yes, all 5.5k!), because I'm away from home and without computer access for two weeks. I figured I could just write a couple of lines, but an hour later I had the start to an actual fic, so I was like, why not just write the rest right now too? Yes @me, WHY NOT. Phone typing, that's why. Skipping ahead many, many hours of arduous work, this fic was born. I think (hope) I caught most of the inevitable typo's, but please be gentle on my weary typing finger.

1\. 

Alec is just about to shut down the monitor he's been using to keep an eye on demon activity, when a bright red, blinking dot appears right on the edge of Brooklyn. It's accompanied by a shrill beep, which seems designed specifically to make absolutely sure he has no chance of faking not having seen the alert. Not that he ever would, of course, because he knows how dangerous that could be for innocent Mundanes and he's sworn to protect them. 

It's just that the timing couldn't be worse. It's the last minute of his shift and it's date night, which means he'd been looking forward to the end of the day ever since it started. The other Shadowhunter on call is already out on a mission, and staffing is very bare bones this week because demon activity has been low and everyone deserved a reprieve after all the drama with Valentine. As Head of Institute he could drag a random person out of bed and order them to hunt down the Ravener that just popped up on the radars, but he's too fair for that, and for once he really hates it. If he were a little more despotic, he could still make dinner with Magnus.

With a heavy heart, he silences the alarm and fishes his phone from his pocket to cancel on Magnus. Before he gets any further than _I'm so sorry, but I_ , someone touches his elbow and he nearly drops his phone. There's an unintended keyboardsmash in his concept text by the time the phone is secure in his grip again, and Clary is standing at his side.

She seems a tiny bit amused, but the apologetic frown on her face still comes across as sincere. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"You didn't," he says, backspacing to erase any evidence to the contrary. "What are you doing here? You're off duty."

"I am. I was actually just passing by on my way to my room when I saw you here with the alarm. It's Thursday. Isn't it date night?"

His first instinct is to ask how she knows about that, but he probably shouldn't be surprised. Thursdays are a set routine by now, and it's entirely plausible that she has some recent texts from Magnus on her phone where he asks her to help pick between different outfits. So instead, he just shakes his head. "I don't think that's happening. I need to deal with this first."

Clary studies the screen. "Doesn't look too complicated. I'll take over for you, and you'll get to have your romantic night in peace."

"Why would you want to do that?" She's right - it's not a hard case - but there's still a good chance it will eat up half the night and leave the Shadowhunter who gets stuck dealing with it covered in ichor.

"Because we're friends," she says with a shrug and a smile.

Alec experiences a rare moment where his mind blanks completely. He stares at her like he's never seen her before. 

Clary's bright smile loses some wattage after ten full seconds tick by. "Aren't we?"

"Yes, of course we are," he replies, without even needing to think about it. He's more relieved than he thought he'd be when the slight hurt disappears from her face. "I just..."

"Hadn't realized that yet?" she finishes for him when he trails off.

"Yeah. Sorry."

"It's alright. As your friend, I forgive you." She gives him a pat on the arm as she steps past him to get to the monitor's controls, and instead of feeling annoyed at the random touch, he's reassured that she really isn't holding a grudge for his obliviousness. By the Angel, this friendship thing is weird.

"Thank you."

"It's okay. You can owe me one."

"Of course," he says. "That's the way friendship works."

She smiles widely at him again, wrinkling her nose at him to show that she caught his unsubtle mention of the word, and he's overcome with the childish urge to stick out his tongue. He reigns it in only because technically he's still on duty as Head of the New York Institute for another minute.

-

2.

On a daytrip to Alicante Alec usually plans multiple meetings in a row to make optimal use of his visit. It's no different this time, and right after lunch he is intercepted in the canteen by Mario Gonzales, a Shadowhunter he'd been in contact with for the past week and who wants him to talk to someone else about building succesful work relationships with Downworlder leaders. Apparently, the Clave wants to create a step by step manual, which sounds ridiculous to Alec. Nobody should need a manual to tell them how to be civil to other groups of people, but it's still enough of a step in the right diection that it had piqued his interest sufficiently to agree to an interview.

There are few Institutes around the world where official Downworld-Shadowhunters relations are as relatively smooth as in New York, so his city serves as a good example. He wonders if "date the High Warlock" would be considered an acceptable approach to Shadowworld diplomacy.

When he enters the meeting room, there's just a single person standing at one end of a large, oval table, and he's surprised to recognize a very familiar face. Gonzales, apparently one of the few Shadowhunters blessedly unaware of the scandal they were both involved in, takes it upon himself to introduce them. "Lightwood, this is Lydia Branwell. She's spearheading the taskforce."

They shake hands, sharing a look at what they both realize is the slight absurdity of handshakes with a person you were less than thirty seconds from marrying.

"Lydia. It's good to see you again."

"Alexander Lightwood, in the flesh." She looks him up and down, not like she's checking him out, but as if she's making sure he's still keeping up with his fitness routine. She offers him a slight smile. "You look well. I'm glad."

"As do you," he replies, because it's true. She's always been perfectly put together and presentable, but there's something more relaxed and natural about her confidence now compared to last time he saw her. "You never told me you weren't at the Brussels Institute anymore."

"It was a recent promotion, and it's been a bit of a whirlwind settling in. I would have updated you in the next email. How's New York?"

"Doing well." He leaves it at that, because there are too many little things he needs to fill her in on to tell her all at once. There will be time later, hopefully.

"I'm not surprised," she says. "It's in very capable hands, after all."

Gonzales has been watching them with a bemused expression. "Clearly introductions weren't necessary here. How do you two know each other?"

"Oh." Lydia stops and looks over at Alec, as if asking for permission to say "I was assigned temporary control of his family's Institute and then we became engaged so we could keep it, but he left me at the altar for a male warlock and soon after I nearly died and left New York so now we email at least weekly". 

Alec wouldn't mind the story itself (it has a happy ending for everyone, after all, even if he was an ass sometimes while getting there), but he's afraid it might eat up their entire scheduled hour of meeting time if they get started on it. He decides to offer up an alternative. "We're friends?"

Lydia nods decisively. "Yes. We're friends."

Something in Alec warms at hearing her say it. It seems a lifetime ago that she was telling him how excited she was to meet Magnus Bane while they were standing over a mutilated corpse. He's glad he still has her in his life, despite his ill-advised marriage proposal plan. 

Gonzales on the other hand appears a little underwhelmed by this extremely condensed version of the truth. He shrugs and turns his attention to his notebook. "Alright. Let's get started, shall we?"

-

3\. 

Sometimes, Alec gets a little ambitious about small things. He wants to surprise Magnus with a night in, for example, which could have been achieved with some take out and anything in Magnus's Netflix queue. Instead, he's dead set on cooking (it takes him six tries, but after that he's finally convinced his lasagna will be decent and non-poisonous, at least), he buys twenty candles on a whim (some of them scented, all of them glittery and purple on the outside to match Magnus's latest redecoration) and he wants to pick a good movie ahead of time, so he knows Magnus won't end up crying and he won't want to throw something at the screen, because that would ruin the mood.

All of it ends up seeming surprisingly easy when compared to the movie choice. There are just too many, and he thought he'd know a few by now, with how many he's been watching with Magnus recently, but he was wrong. He's narrowed it down to action movies because they both like those, and he's still drowning in options. There are Star Wars and Treks and lots of things about cars and explosions and kidnappings, and so many Spidermans they should have just called it Spidermen and be done with it.

So he asks Clary at work. Who tells him to call Simon, because he's her go to movie advice guy, apparently. Turns out even Mundanes find this difficult.

He has Simon's number already, and stares at it for a moment, wondering why and how and since when. Then he walks to his office and dials. 

"Go for Simon," Simon's voice says.

"This is Alec."

There's a short but stunned silence on the other end. At least that's what Alec assumes it is.

"Lightwood," he adds, awkwardly.

"Hi, yeah! I only know one Alec, so you're good. You've just never called me before, so I was bracing for bad news, I guess. Is someone dead? Is something burning? Is _someone_ burning?"

He grows aware that he's still hovering just inside the door of his own office, so he sits down at his desk. "Why would I be calling you if there was someone on fire?"

"I don't know, you tell me. You're the one calling."

"There's no fire." That much was probably obvious, but better to be sure. "I need a movie recommendation, and Clary told me to ask you."

"You asked Clary for a movie rec? Why not just ask Magnus? Or, well, Google?"

"I want to surprise Magnus, and Google wasn't helpful."

"Okay." There's some rustling on the other end, as if Simon is getting comfortable on a noisy couch or sinking deeper down in bed. It's the middle of the day, but he's a Vampire musician, so who knows what his sleep schedule looks like. "This is kind of exciting, actually. Do you have any idea what you're looking for or am I shooting blind here?"

"Something with action in it, but no wizards or bows and arrows, because movies always do those wrong."

"Are you in for a movie marathon?"

"No." He's firm about that. "I was trying to avoid those. I don't get how people can watch more than one movie at a time."

"It's a trained skill. You'll learn. But alright, this narrows the field a bit for now," Simon says. He hums a bit, making thinking noises. "Is sci-fi okay?"

"Yes."

"Then you should try Pacific Rim. Have you seen that one?"

"No. What is it?"

"It's giant robots against giant sea monsters. Sort of Transformers versus evil luminescent water Pokémon, if you will, but surprisingly not terrible for something that can be summed up that way." Alec can't see Simon, but he can vividly imagine him waving his hands around in excitement while talking. "It's perfect. Even if you hate it, it stars Charlie Hunnam as a blonde hunk with heart eyes for Rinko Kikuchi's character, which will still be nice to look at. Also, it has Idris Elba and Charlie Day in it, so you can't hate it."

Alec still has no idea what to expect after all those words Simon just threw around, but he finds that he trusts Simon's judgement. "Sounds fine. Thank you."

"You're totally welcome. You know what I just realized? I'm like, the Lightwood dating guru."

Simon's been helpful, so Alec asks, "What do you mean?"

"Not too long ago, Jace called me out of the blue, just like you, to ask about restaurants. It was just as strange and surreal as this has been."

Alec switches the phone to his other ear, so he has his right hand free for his laptop. He wants to know if Pacific Rim is on Netflix or he should rent it. "Sorry."

"No man, it's cool. It's nice to feel useful, and really weird that I'm suddenly considered a love expert, or something. I've never had friends ask me for date advice before, _ever_. That's awesome. Makes a guy feel popular."

He should have learned from his experience with Clary. This is a phone conversation, even, so the only thing he has to do is not blurt out something so direct it's rude. So obviously, that's exactly what he does, right after Simon helped him. "We're friends?"

"Oh, do you not do that kind of thing? Is there like a Shadowhunter code that says you need to be a lone wolf?" 

"No."

"Then yeah, I think we're friends. I went to your wedding, you know. I mean, you asked afterwards who'd invited me, but we'll just pretend that was a fun joke."

"It was fun alright," Alec says, and Simon gasps dramatically on the other end of the line. "But I remember. You rambled about a movie."

Simon gasps again, but it sounds like it's for real this time. "That's right! The Graduate! Like I said back then, it ends in this great scene where Ben crashes Elaine's wedding to declare his love for her and wow, you should definitely watch it with Magnus. It would be super romantic."

"You talk a lot," Alec says, rather than responding to any of that. He can't, because then he'd have to admit he actually kind of likes the idea.

"Yeah, well, you're not very original, buddy. I've heard that before."

"I remember when you were a shy nerd."

"I remember when _you_ were a scary dude with arrows. Now I know you're just a big softie."

"I'm hanging up now."

"Not if I'm haning up fir-"

Alec really isn't sure if he terminated the call, or if Simon managed to do it, just half a second earlier. He's already mentally preparing for the debate next time he sees Simon in real life.

Okay, mentally looking forward to it, maybe.

-

4.

The Hunter's Moon is relatively empty for the time of evening, but that's probably not unusual for a Tuesday, Alec imagines. The only reason he's there is because Magnus and he went for a walk and they were spotted by an old Warlock acquaintace of Magnus's a street away, who then convinced them to come in for a drink. Magnus and the woman are at a table, deep in conversation, so Alec has wandered over to the bar to allow them to catch up. He doesn't mind, but he does wish Maia were working today, just so he wouldn't feel quite so out of place sitting there alone.

He has pulled out his phone and is randomly flipping through the handful of not case related pictures he has on it, when someone stops at the stool right next to his. It's Underhill. "This seat taken?" he asks.

Alec slides his phone into his jeans pocket. "No, go ahead."

Underhill sits down and orders a beer from the bartender. It's a Werewolf guy Alec doesn't know, but he thinks he's seen him with Maia and Simon before. His name is something with a B, possibly.

"You here alone?" Underhill asks, once he's taken a first sip of his drink.

"No, Magnus is over there." Alec points to the table, where Magnus is now showing the woman something on his phone. It could be one of the pictures Alec was just looking at from one of their city day trips. "He hasn't seen her in a century, apperently, so I'm letting them have some space."

"That's nice of you."

"How about you?"

Underhill shrugs. "I'm on my own, yeah. Stopping by for a drink. Just one."

"I'm not judging," Alec says, tapping his own glass. "I don't think there's any moral high ground for me to stand on after last time."

"It wasn't that bad." Underhill says it kindly, but even he can't make it sound entirely convincing.

"Yes, it was."

There's a cheer from the direction of the pool table which draws both of their attention. It seems the current occupants of the table are done playing, because the cues are being put away and Alec sees some people exchange money. 

Underhill inclines his head in the table's direction. "Speaking of last time we met here - I know you said no then, but want to play some pool now?"

As much as he likes having a conversation partner, the time has come where Alec can't avoid the question any longer. He doesn't want anyone to feel obligated to socialize with him out of fear they'd be jeopardizing their professional lifes if they didn't. He grimaces a little. "Do you really want to be hanging out with your boss?"

"I like my boss," Underhill says, with a slight smile. "I like Alec Lightwood even more."

Alec feels his blood go cold. "This is not -"

"Whoa, no! Definitely not," Underhill interrupts, before Alec can get anywhere. He looks as freaked as Alec feels. "That was meant platonically. A strictly platonic like."

"Okay, good."

"I know you're with Magnus. I'm actually dating someone myself, in fact."

"Oh, right. That's nice." He has the distinct impression he made things awkward, so he casts about for something to say. "How about some darts? You could tell me more about this guy you're dating." He takes a gulp of his beer so he can hide behind his glass for a moment. "If you want."

Underhill laughs a little, probably helped along by the release of the awkward tension. Alec is glad to see it gone. "Darts against the best sharpshooter this side of America? Sure, why not."

"I'll go easy on you," Alec promises as he gets up. Underhill follows him to the corner with the dartboard on the wall.

"Thanks, sir."

"Maybe we should..." Alec collects the darts from the board, but then he has them in one hand, his half empty beer glass in the other. Neither is a great object to gesture with, so he waves them around a little. It's less eloquent than he wishes, and he wonders if he's wasting any little shred of credibility he still had as a figure of authority in their work relationship. 

On the other hand, this is a man who helped him avoid his family and get to a cab when he was stupidly drunk and who never breathed a word about it afterwards to his knowledge. It seems hard to destroy Underhill's respect.

"Dispense with the titles?" Underhill suggests, which eases Alec's doubts further, because that's exactly what he meant. It's frankly a miracle it came across.

"Yes," he says, and hands Underhill the darts. "Outside of Institute business, anyway. I'd like it if we could be friends."

"So would I." Underhill glances around and deposits his glass on the nearest empty table, moving the darts to his left hand. He offers Alec the right, so Alec shakes it. "Mark."

"Alec."

"Now we're friends," Underhill - Mark - says. He grins at Alec as he steps around him to get in position for his first go at the board. "And I'll try like hell to beat you at least one round. Just so you know."

Alec snorts and leans against the table, not very worried. "I'd like to see you try, Mark."

-

5.

Alec is alone in Magnus's loft when the doorbell rings. It can't be Magnus who forgot his key, because he's a Warlock who could melt the door if he wanted, and more importantly, he's in Europe until the evening. Alec puts the tablet with digital paperwork down on the coffee table and rises from the couch to see who's hoping to catch the High Warlock of Brooklyn at home on an early Wednesday afternoon.

It's Catarina and Madzie, as it turns out. As soon as the door opens, Madzie lets go of her adoptive mother's hand and launches her tiny body through the doorway, where it collides with Alec's right leg. With her attached to it, he can't bend down out of fear he'll bowl her over, so he has to make do with a hand on her head and a playful tug on one of her two neat braids. "Hey! If it isn't my favorite little sorcerer."

"It is," Madzie says, still holding tight to his sweatpants. He wasn't really dressed for company. His plan was to make use of the empty loft to spend his day inside in comfortable almost-laziness, catching up on reading and forms he'd been neglecting.

He looks up at Catarina and smiles at her, but she seems too harried to smile back. She's in her blue scrubs with a jacket thrown over and white work shoes, hair pulled back, with a messenger bag slung over her right shoulder. It's an even odder attire than Alec's for a random walk in public. "Hi Alec," she says. "Is Magnus home?"

"No, he left a few hours ago. He's somewhere in Russia today, meeting with another Warlock for something work related." Alec doesn't know where in Russia exactly, but he now wishes he did. It would make it a lot easier for Catarina to find Magnus if she really needs to. "What brings you guys here in the middle of the day?"

"I have a shift in the hospital in half an hour that I can't swap this late, but the babysitter just called to announce she has food poisoning and won't make it more than ten feet from the toilet bowl today." Catarina's face is that of a woman who dearly wishes she could curse, but is hindered by an only slightly higher priority need to be mindful of the presence of her young child. "I was hoping I could convince Magnus he owed me a favor. The neighbor offered to watch Madzie, but he's a Mundane, and I'd rather have a friend watch her anyway. Can you do it?"

"Sure," he says, because there's really no reason why not. He's always liked kids, and he even knows Madzie. He's babysitted her together with Magnus often enough in the past. "I'd love to spend some time with Mads."

Catarina's shoulders drop an inch instantly. "Oh, Gods, thank you. I was scared I'd have to take her with me, and she doesn't react well to hospitals, after everything she went through. We're not hijacking your day too horribly?"

"I have nothing to do today that can't be pushed," he assures her. She's giving him a good excuse to procrastinate on paperwork, even, but he doesn't say that out loud.

"I'm glad." She slides the bag from her shoulder and hands it to him by the strap. "Here, this has some of Madzie's toys and books to keep her occupied. I'll be by in six hours to pick her up. She can eat an evening meal here or at home, whatever's easiest for you. Call me if anything goes wrong." 

"Got it. I have your number," he assures her.

Catarina nods. She pats her jacket pockets as if to make sure she hasn't forgotten or lost anything important, and then kisses her hand and presses it to Madzie's forehead. "Bye, little fish. I'll be back tonight. Be nice to Alec, okay?"

Madzie nods solemnly.

Satisfied, Catarina is already half turned away from the door. "Thank you, Alec, really. You're a true friend." 

With that, she disappears down the hallway. Alec closes the door, left alone with a tiny Warlock girl and the glowing knowledge one of Magnus's oldest friends considers him a friend as well.

"Can I have ice cream?" Madzie asks.

-

6.

It's not Shadowhunter business that brings him to the Werewolf pack's headquarters, which feels a little odd. He enters the Chinese restaurant prepared for some hostility, but he finds it conveniently empty. The only two people present are Luke and a woman Alec recognizes as Luke's current police partner, who he's pretty sure is not a Werewolf. Both get up when Alec steps through the door, leaving behind dirty plates on their table. It looks like they stopped by for lunch.

"Alec!" Luke says warmly. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm here to pick up Clary's jacket. She left it here, her text said." 

"And she sent you to get it?" the woman asks. Her eyes are sharp and she looks very interested. 

"I was closest." Which Clary had found out by using a tracking rune, which was an ingenious way to get a jacket back with minimal personal effort, but still something he would have to talk to her about. Tracking your friends wasn't what runes were meant for, technically.

Luke seems to realize his partner and Alec don't know each other, so he points between them. "Ollie, this is Alec Lightwood. Alec, Ollie. I'll go look for Clary's jacket in the back, Alec. Be right back."

"Thanks," Alec says.

Luke nods. He shoots a look in Ollie's direction which is a clear warning, but Ollie rolls her eyes at it. As soon as Luke has disappeared into the kitchen, she turns to Alec, taking him in. He's starting to see why she's a detective.

"You're the gay Shadowhunter, right? The one with the Warlock boyfriend?"

"I am," he says. Seems pretty senseless to deny it. "You're Luke's partner, the Mundane with a girlfriend."

It's pretty meager as far as knowing a person goes, but she seems excited he's aware of her existence at all. "True. I should probably admit I've been asking Luke to introduce me to you for over a month now."

"To me? Why?"

"You're Head of the Shadowhunters!" She smiles, suddenly, like she's been holding it back. "That's really cool."

"Head of the New York Institute," he corrects her. "I only lead the Shadowhunters here in the city."

"Still! You're doing really well for yourself. And honestly, it's nice to know the Shadowhunters aren't as rigidly homophobic as I thought you'd be. Sorry for assuming."

This is where he'd really like to tell her that it's fine that she thought complete nonsense, but he can't. He thinks back to his coming out, everything that led up to that dramatic moment, and the way his own parents treated him after. "You weren't entirely wrong," he's forced to admit. "There are a lot of people in Alicante who still don't like that I didn't marry a woman."

She lets that sink in for barely two seconds. "Do you have any gay friends?" 

His expression probably shows that the question caught him off guard, because she elaborates without prompting. 

"Every gay person needs a couple of gay friends, and it sounds like Shadowhunter society might make things a little hard on you."

He thinks of Underhill. The he thinks of Aline, who he'd always considered Izzy's friend, but his friendship parameters might have been a little too strict until now. "I have two." He's a little surprised about it even as he says it.

"Any lesbians?" Ollie asks.

"One."

She grins at him conspiratorially. "You could triple that number if you and Magnus invited me and Sam over for dinner some time."

To his own surprise, he laughs, because he again didn't see this coming. He barely knows her, and he's never met her girlfriend at all, and now she's basically invited the both of them into Magnus's home. 

On the other hand, he knows she must be okay if Luke likes her. Magnus would never mind throwing a dinner party, and Alec finds he doesn't hate the thought either. Ollie is straightforward. She asks a lot of questions, just like Clary had at the start, but she doesn't dance around it, which Alec appreciates.

"Sure," he finds himself saying. "I think we could arrange that."

"Found it!" Luke says, emerging through the back door with a black leather jacket held aloft. It looks tiny, so it must be about Clary's size. "Someone put in the supplies closet for some reason."

"We should exchange numbers," Ollie suggests, once Alec is in possession of the jacket for which he walked two blocks further than his usual patrol. She fishes her phone from her jeans, pulls up a new contact page and hands it to him.

"By the Angel," Luke mutters. "I'm sorry for leaving you with this vulture."

"It's okay," Alec says, confirming the new contact and handing Ollie's phone back to her. "She's a friendly vulture. We're starting a local LGBT dinner party."

Ollie laughs, and Alec is kind of glad Clary shamelessly used him.

-

+1.

Magnus has been working non-stop on the seating chart for the reception for ninety minutes, so when he suddenly puts down his pen, it's reason for Alec to take notice. 

"I wish Ragnor could be there," Magnus says, a little wistful.

"I know," Alec replies. He reaches across the table to cover Magnus's hand with his own. He never had the chance to meet Ragnor Fell before his death, but he's heard enough stories to know that for centuries he was the closest thing Magnus had to family.

Magnus looks at their hands. "It's just -" 

Alec waits patiently for the end to that sentence, if there will ever be one. He wants to give Magnus time to work through his feelings if he needs it.

"You have one guest more on your side of the aisle than I do."

"What?"

"On the guest list. For the wedding. Your guests outnumber mine." Magnus says it as if it should be obvious what he means, which it probably is, but Alec needs a moment to catch up and switch from the conversation he thought they were having, to the conversation this actually is.

"Okay," he says.

"You have more friends than I do!"

"I'm sure that's not true," he hedges. "A lot of people on my side are Clave officials. They're there so we don't offend anyone important too much, not because they like me. Or I like them."

Magnus retracts his hand from under Alec's. He picks up the tablet with the names of their guests on it, leaving the actual seating chart he'd been drawing on paper alone, because it's far too big to wave as dramatically as a tablet. "The same goes for me and a lot of the warlocks who are attending."

"Well, maybe we can push one of my guests over to your side. Like Catarina?"

Despite knowing Magnus would rather die than hurt him, Alec is very glad looks can't kill. If they could, he'd be in trouble. "Catarina's mine already, sweetheart. She was my friend long before you became her backup babysitter and therefore favorite Shadowhunter to ever live."

"Clary, then? Simon?"

"They're both coming with one of your siblings as their date. We can't split them up."

"Ollie and Sam? Mark?"

"They're your friends far more than mine. And don't even suggest Lydia. We can't ask her to formally be a guest of the person who stole her groom away at the last wedding she attended."

"I wasn't going to suggest her," Alec lies. "I don't fully get what the problem is."

"There isn't one. I simply never knew I was dating such a sociable guy."

Alec very narrowly avoids an eye roll at that. He doesn't want Magnus to think it's directed at him, but sociable is pretty much the antithesis to how he sees himself.

Magnus is quiet for a minute, staring down at his lists and looking thoughtful. Alec watches him, until eventually Magnus taps the tablet screen to edit the document. "You know what, I think I might invite the neighbor after all."

"The old lady next door? I thought you said she always smells of garlic and you don't want her there?"

"I've changed my mind. We've invited more than enough real vampires, so maybe her odor will keep away some fictional ones."

"If you think so."

"Oh," Magnus says. He whips his head up, faking wide-eyed surprise. "Would you look at that. We have the exact same number of wedding guests now." 

"What an amazing coincidence," Alec deadpans, but he can't keep the grin off his face. "Apparently we're both very popular people."

"Certainly. Anyone who isn't our friend should be pitied." Magnus waves his hand over one of the tables on his paper chart, so all of the circles representing chairs move a tiny bit closer together and leave room for one more. Alec can't see who the garlic neighbor will be sitting with, but he hopes it's not someone they like very much. "They'll miss the wedding of the century."

"Maybe I should be making some more friends, then. Philantropically."

Magnus looks up from his work to point a threatening finger at Alec. "Don't you dare."

"I'm not sure it can be helped," Alec says, with a worried frown. "I'm just such a naturally friendly person. People are drawn to me."

"Oh my god," Magnus says. "You're an ass. I'm marrying an ass."

"You mean you're marrying me _for_ my ass."

"That too."

"Good to know such things beforehand. It'll make the inevitable heartbreak easier to handle." It's only fun to joke about because he's so absolutely certain it's something that could never happen. He's not marrying Magnus on a whim.

Magnus scoffs. "At least you'll have plenty of friends' shoulders to cry on."

"Yeah," Alec says. He knows his grin must have reached shit-eating by now. "Exactly one more than you."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! I hope it was fun. 
> 
> If you want to make a fic writer jump for joy, please consider leaving a comment. It really means so much. <3
> 
> You can also find me on Tumblr as @itwoodbeprefect, if you want!


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